Knowing the Shadows
by Madam'zelleG
Summary: "Words scored in blood adorning the bricks of the East End..." A collection of shorts that chronicle the adventures of Sherlock Holmes and Jack the Ripper.
1. Saucy Jack

_Saucy Jack._

_Words scored in blood adorning the dirty bricks of the East End. Bloody scratches plummeting down the wall, drawing the eye down, down, down…_

_Bloody bundle of cloth in a heap on the cobbles. Bloody flowers adorning the darkness of the street. Bloody man, asleep, asleep, asleep…_

_Bloody face turned up towards the sky. Bloody eyes no longer see, see, see…_

The scream was torn out of her throat, throwing her upright and sending the tears spilling down her cheeks. Her breath came in ragged sobs as she held her face in her hands.

"Annie?"

Strong arms encircled her thin shoulders, and she gave herself over to her husband. Geoff Lestrade pulled her close, stroking down her long, blonde braid as their infant daughter began to wail pitifully beside them in her pram. He did not speak, but only waited, trusting her to speak when she was ready.

"You were dead," she whispered. "Ripper. Dead."

Lestrade only held her tighter, before he gently sat her up so she could see his eyes. "I'm all right, Annie," he said quietly, reaching for her hand and holding it tightly against his chest. "I'm all right."

She fell back into his arms again, blinking back the tears that were left. "I'm sorry. Geoff?"

"Yes?"

"Promise me… promise me you'll call on Mr. Holmes tomorrow."

Lestrade lifted the crying Sadie out of her pram, hugging her close and pulling Annie close again as they lay back down in the bed. All he could do was hold them both. Send them back to sleep, so that they did not realize his own nightmare…

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed this first instalment! Please review!**


	2. Silent Plea

After new of the second body spilled into the papers, a silent plea went out.

A plea from husbands to wives, worry and fear rank in their voices. Could they ever make the seriousness, the desperation understood?

"Don't go out at night. Stay home, stay with me."

This was different than other murders. The descriptions of mutilations and death sprang out at them from the page, the silent killer laughing in their faces.

"Look how I take your women. How I take them and I make them my own. You could not imagine the thrill in my acts. I have killed and I will kill again. And there is nothing you can do about it. The city is mine. And I will take it."

_Friend Watson, I implore you and your wife to accompany me to Baker Street. These troubled streets are not to walk in._


	3. Smoke

Inhale, exhale...

The night is quite still where he reclines, free from the parasites that inhabit his typically-chosen locales. He enjoys the taste of the smoke on his lips, drawing back and forth across his lower lips with what little stub remains. He fills his lungs, closing his eyes...

How seldom is the night his own, how seldom he longs for it to be so. Yet, at this moment, it is right.

It is his.

The stones beneath him are cold, smeared, heavy... strange... feeling the difference when no one lies upon them... bitch.

Thoughts in his head... thoughts jumbled...

The footsteps near him make his eyes lazily turn towards the sound... footsteps and the soft tap of the cane.

Halloa...

The man who limps by looks strange, out of place, in this area... he's dressed like a finer man than anyone he knows... he carries a large, brown bag, his gait thrown off not only by its weight, by the looks of him. His face is exhausted, and dare he think... pained?

He looks at the newcomer with private interest, his face a mask of drunken bliss. He expects the man to continue on, but... he pauses to kneel down, his breath exhaling painfully as he does.

"Are you all right, friend?"

"Mmm." He nods, waiting...

"The night is cold. Please, let me." And there is a scarf round his neck now, and he pauses to look at the kindly face of his visitor.

As the man struggles to his feet and moves away, he stares... climbs to his feet... follows him.

And where does he go? But to Baker Street...


	4. Jack and Jill

Jack and Jill went out for thrills  
All through the London darkness  
Jack fell down and slashed her crown  
And Jill came tumbling after

* * *

Up Jack got and off did trot  
Pleased with his work of offing  
Saw the coppers running through  
His bloody tracks all doffing

* * *

Jack went in and oft did grin  
To see the coppers' thick heads  
Then he vexed, saw who'd be next  
Will take it to her own bed


End file.
